“You are shivering now,” he said, moving closer still. “I brought this for you.”
He did not offer the cloak to her, instead reaching out to drape it around her shoulders. Tugging the ends together, he gathered them under her chin. That pulled her closer to him than she’d expected, but with such a hold, she could not move away. His nearness overwhelmed her and as he leaned his head down and gazed into her eyes, she knew he would kiss her.
When his lips were a scant inch from hers, he stopped and did not come any closer. She held her breath, knowing from their night together how this would feel, and trying to make her body not react to what it knew could happen. And from the way her heart pounded in her chest and the way her mouth went dry, apparently her body wanted it to happen again. Lara closed her eyes and fought the urge to cross the empty space and press her mouth to his. She remembered the touch of his lips on her…mouth and on other… Her traitorous body tightened in places better not thought about, and she shivered once more.
Then, Sebastien stepped away, allowing the ends of the cloak to dangle loosely. Lara searched his face for some explanation and fought the wayward desire that now spiraled within her. She stumbled a few steps back and turned away from his gaze. Did he know what his nearness did to her? Was seduction his plan all along? And she could not stop the errant and most dangerous thought of all—why had he stopped?
“My pardon, lady,” he said from behind her. “I did not mean to…” His words ceased, as though he did not know what to say. Lara turned back to him and the look of confusion in his expression calmed her somehow.
“I had sought to ease your fears and anxiety about our meal together, and now I can see I have simply made it worse with my lack of control.” He glanced over at the men near the stairway and then at her. “I have not finished my instructions to the guards. If you would join me in the solar when you are finished walking, I will give you some time here.”
Without waiting for her consent, he did indeed leave her there…alone. Lara pulled the cloak around her more tightly and walked back to the edge. Trying not to think about what had almost happened between them, she allowed the wind to soothe her before facing their next encounter.
Sebastien counted off each step he took away from her, clenching his fists against the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. Although he could deny the wisdom in doing such a thing, he could not deny how much he wanted to do exactly that…and more. Much, much more.
He truly had nothing else to speak to the guards about, so he left the battlements after indicating that the lady was to be allowed there. He ran down the steps, crossed through the hall and made his way to the solar. Everything was ready now and the servants, and Lara’s maid, met him with expectant gazes when he entered the room.
Sebastien sat down and asked for wine while he waited. Would she drag this out? Would she come back as he’d directed? Taking the first swallow of the wine, he hoped it would settlehisstomach. Only a few minutes passed before he heard footsteps coming up the stairs toward the solar. Then she was there. He stood as she entered, and watched silently as she handed the cloak to her maid.
“Sir? If you please, I have need to return to my chambers for a brief time before we eat.”
He tried to discern if there was guile in this request, but could see nothing that indicated more or less than she’d asked for. Nodding his assent, he was curious when she whispered something to her maid before leaving. Whatever words she’d said caused the girl to blush and look away.
True to her words, Lara returned a few minutes later and, after sharing a glance with her maid, walked over and sat next to him at the table. Once she’d been served wine, he gestured to the servants and they began placing platters of roasted meats and fish before them. Sebastien had explained to them the foods he wanted served and how he wanted the meal to be done. As he’d ordered, the table was filled with a selection of her favorites, ones revealed to him by the old cook, whom he had kept on in the kitchens.
If she recognized them, she did not say, but her gaze moved from dish to dish, and every so often he noticed a smile on her lips. Once everything was in place, the servants bowed and left. Lara turned and seemed to stare at the closed door for a minute. He waited for her to turn back and face him.
“I hear that you have not been eating lately,” he began. “Your cook said these were some of your favorite dishes and I thought to entice you with them.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, sir, but there is more than needed for only the two of us. Should we not invite Malcolm and Catriona to sup with us? I am certain Malcolm would be interested in discussing the fight he witnessed earlier.”
Sebastien could not help it—the laugh escaped before he could stop it. “They are eating elsewhere and are well cared for, lady.”
She worried her lower lip between her teeth and gazed at the dishes again. He lifted a platter of thick slices of beef to her. The succulent aroma made his own stomach grumble. He thought she might refuse, but then nodded in agreement. Placing a slice on the plate in front of him, he cut it into smaller pieces and offered them to her.
Sebastien watched as she scooped some onto her own plate and then skewered one with her eating dagger. There was a moment when she bit into the well-cooked and well-spiced meat that a look of satisfaction crossed her face. He wondered what that was about, but did not ask. Instead, he took samples from most of the dishes and placed them on her plate. She began to eat with enthusiasm, so he considered how he could begin their talk.
He waited for her to eat a substantial amount before starting. From watching her these last few weeks and from the questions he asked of those closest to her, he knew that when she was upset, she did not eat. So he knew that her visit to the chapel had not soothed her at all, and he wondered why not. Had it only been the incident in the yard that had distressed her?
Sebastien reached over and refilled the goblet in front of her. “There is ale, if you prefer it.”
“Nay, the wine is quite good.” She sipped it. “Another gift from the Bruce?”
“The same. He gave us a keg of his favorite to…”
“To mark our wedding.” She finished the statement when he paused.
Now it was his turn to swallow deeply from his own cup. She’d mentioned it in a matter-of-fact manner. “Aye.”
“What else did he give you for marrying me? What honors were heaped on you for taking the enemy’s daughter as your wife? Or should I ask what offense you committed to be sentenced to such an arrangement?” Her blue eyes narrowed as she asked.
The sharp edge of sarcasm filled her voice and he answered in kind. “I gained no rich rewards or honors by our marriage. I but obeyed my king’s orders. We needed to secure the castle and the claim to the MacDougall’s lands and you were the means of that.” If such things were to come from the king, so be it; he need not confirm it to her yet.
She lost all color from her cheeks and he regretted immediately the harshness in his tone. Why did he allow her to goad him into this kind of exchange? He read her pattern of behavior clearly—that was one advantage of his years as a spy. Sebastien could watch individuals over a period of time and learn their secrets by what they did and how they did it.
Lara would be even more upset when she realized this about him. In spite of her efforts not to give away anything about herself, he’d already discovered many things about her.
She had an incredible amount of vigor and needed to have that force of life directed into usefulness or she got herself in trouble. She knew much more about her father and her clan’s battle plans than she wanted Sebastien to realize. And although she put on a brave and confident face, she suffered from an intense insecurity when it came to her own worth. Tales of how she constantly tried to achieve more than would be expected of a daughter, even the esteemed Maid of Lorne, had been shared with him.
